I have a sort of constant itch lately. I feel like I'm supposed to (dictated by whom is what I can't quite figure?) be doing more, seeing more, being more.
When I search for what this means, delving into my head space on repeat in an everlasting playlist, I come up empty handed.
On the one hand, why can't I just be content with the status quo? Why must I always be seeking, searching, looking, yearning?
On the flip side, maybe the days have more to offer that I'm neglecting to hope for, because hope for me has often left me charred and more than a little wary.
I have dreams, specific long term plans and goals. Yet, I seem to have no energy on a day to day basis to even consider the reach.
I tell myself, like with every move we've done, that I need to devote a year to just "being." It usually takes that long to suss out what I want and where I'm at emotionally. The problem is, I've never been very patient. This time, it seems even more just out of my grasp. The continual loop of enquiry in my brain is draining and exhausting. It's that physical denouement that is most prevalent.
I know the best Rx for this is just to give things, give everything, time. Time. Time. Time. It's the story echoing and reverberating through the hollows of my mind.
How much time? For what?
I know many who went through a sort of turning point around 40 years old. Worse, for some, it was a spiralling plummet without a parachute. I'd prefer to be the former than the latter.
I'll give it some time and take some small, tentative steps, because I don't "allow" crisis. To every problem there is a solution. To every uncertainty there must be a leap. I have no idea where my path is leading....but I continue to follow.
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